Katherine had taken the roses to her mother, who was still sleeping. She took a minute to watch her before she forced herself to place the flowers where she would see them when she woke up and left the room.

It was much later, after lunch, when she finally got around to arranging the rest of the flowers. She was in the dining room working on the centerpiece when her father joined her, and his face looked like thunder.

"I told you to ensure the girls looked nice for our guests! They showed up to lunch in their swimsuits and wraps." his voice was low but fierce.

Katherine was surprised they had bothered with the wraps. "I told them your wishes when I woke them this afternoon, Dad. I don't know what more I could have done," she insisted, keeping her eyes on the flowers.

"It's your job to keep them in line!" he growled.

"No, that's your job. You're their father, not me. Plus, I've been a little busy this morning." Katherine held up a flower. "Why don't you have them help around here? It might be good for them. You were unhappy with the way I handled the menus. Perhaps one of them could take over that."  Katherine doubted they would know how to do such a minor thing. They would probably all be eating salads for every meal.

"When I want your advice on how to run my house, I'll ask for it!" George was turning red at Katherine's unusual directness, so she didn't feel it was the right time to remind him that it was her mother's house, not his. It had been something Dora had brought into the marriage, along with a tidy inheritance.

"All right, Dad," she agreed, not knowing what else she could say to calm him down.

"Stop calling me Dad. I want you to call me George from now on!"

The silence between them was heavy as Katherine laid down her flower and clutched the table in front of her for support. Why would her father suddenly want her to call him George and not Dad? Was he that ashamed of her?

"Why?" Katherine's voice was soft but steady.

"Why doesn't matter? Just do as I ask!" Then he turned and stalked out of the room, leaving a pale Katherine behind him.

Katherine walked on unsteady legs through the dining room to the parlor, her mind a jumbled mess. She was proud of her moment of backbone, but she had never dreamed it would cause her father to demand she stop calling him Dad. She looked out the window with a view of the massive lawn in front of the house. If it was a lovely evening, the windows opened and created an opening to the lawn. It was a great advantage for parties, but Katherine didn't see the view.

As usual, when something unpleasant arose, she started to think about everything but the thing that was troubling her most. Now she thought about what would happen when her mother was gone. Would her father sell the house? She would miss the house if he did.

"Maybe you're wrong?" Alistair's voice spoke behind her, where he was sitting in a chair near the large fireplace.

It startled her, and she spun around to face him. How had she forgotten he was around? It had never happened before. Was she finally losing her mind?

"Excuse me?" Katherine looked at him, hoping he hadn't just heard the conversation between her and her father, knowing he had.

"If he doesn't want you to call him Dad, maybe he will let you go when the time comes." Alistair stood, walking toward her. "Although, I do admit it is an odd request." He frowned in thought.

She hadn't even begun to process her father's comments, much less think of what they meant long-term., but it was obviously something that Alistair was willing to do for her.

"What are you thinking?" Alistair was serious as his attention focused on her, and he reached out to touch her pale cheek. His tender touch made her want to cry.

"I'm thinking that I'll miss this house when he sells it," Katherine turned to look out the window.

"Buy the house then," Alistair suggested.

"Alistair, I don't have that kind of money!" Katherine shook her head. She had enough to live frugally for the rest of her life, but not if she dropped four million for a house.

"Yes, you do." Alistair dropped his hand. "Remember that money you gave me six years ago to invest for you?" He crossed his arms and watched her.

"I did that so that I would always have a reason to talk to you, not because I expected to make more money with it," Katherine explained.

"That's nice to hear but also a bit insulting at the same time." He paused as he thought about her comment. "Either way, the result is that I did make you some money," Alistair told her, a sum that made her gasp.

"How? Why didn't I know? Oh my God, am I going to jail for tax fraud!" She didn't know about the money, had never reported it. It was her mind once again thinking about something other than what was really bothering her.

Alistair stared at her with a shocked expression."You really do like to make mountains out of molehills, don't you?"

Katherine didn't hear his comment as her mind spun. It was too much! First, her father, now Alistair. This was him getting to see the real her whether she wanted him to or not as she started to have a panic attack.

"I have to sit down." She crossed her legs, sat on the floor between the table and the window, and bowed her head down while resting her hands on the back of her neck.

"Okay," Alistair said, joining her on the floor and watching her patiently as she took deep breaths to calm her nerves.

He sat across from her for a few minutes, waiting for her to calm herself. When she looked up at him with tears, he reached for her hands and held them in his own while he rested his forehead against hers.

"Oh, my love, this, whatever it is, goes very deep, doesn't it?" he asked, finally grasping how truly messed up her life was.

"You have no idea," her voice broke, and she closed her eyes, loving the feel of his warmth.

"Do you remember the first time I met you?" His voice was almost a whisper.

Katherine smiled and sighed. "I'll never forget it." It was a happy memory to focus on for a moment.

"Beth said something that I dismissed at the time and shouldn't have." He squeezed her hands as if asking for forgiveness for what he was about to say.

"What?" Katherine licked her lips nervously, and Alistair placed a tender kiss on them before he rested his head against hers once more.

"Beth said to be careful, that she didn't know much about you, and you were a good woman, but you might be a bit broken." Alistair caressed her cheek as Katherine felt the tears start.

"She's right. You should be careful and stay away from me because I am broken."

"That's not what she meant. Our family has its fair share of broken, and we excel at helping each other glue the pieces back together." Alistair gave a gentle smile as he squeezed her hands once more. "She didn't want me to hurt you."

"You could never hurt me, Alistair. I know that you would sooner hurt yourself." Katherine automatically defended him.

"I'm glad you think that, but I'm human and it's inevitable that I eventually will hurt you. My question for you is do you know how much you hurt me every time you walk away and choose not to share?" Alistair's voice broke.

Katherine shook her head. "No, put it proves that you should stay away from me because I do."

"No, I want to help you figure out what needs to be fixed so that you will stop hurting me. Will you let me help you?" He stood up and offered her his hand. Katherine knew if she accepted it, she would have to put all her cards on the table and hope he was still willing to love her afterward.

Katherine was about to take his hand when she heard her father's voice.

"Why are you on the floor, Katherine?" George's voice sounded reasonable enough, but Katherine could see the muscle in his jaw jumping when she glanced up at him.

"I-" Katherine stared at him, voiceless, too cowed by his presence to say anything. She was once again the scared ugly little girl who only wanted his approval.

"It's my fault," Alistair said, his hand still outstretched toward her. His eyes met hers, asking her to trust him, and this time Katherine reached up and took his hand.

Neither one offered any more explanation than that as Katherine stood and crossed her arms.

"Alistair, I was looking for you. Do you have a moment to answer a few questions that I have?" George looked away from Katherine and placed his hand on Alistair's shoulder as he attempted to turn him away from her.

"Katherine?" Alistair asked, watching her.

Katherine tucked some hair behind her ear and licked her lips again, enjoying the way Alistair followed the movement despite her father standing right next to them.

"I have to finish the flowers and check on my mom." Katherine motioned toward the dining room.

"I hope I get the chance to meet her while I'm here," Alistair smiled at the prospect.

"That won't be possible. She's very ill. Let's go to my office and talk." This time George did manage to turn Alistair in the right direction, but not before he shot Katherine an angry look over his shoulder.

Katherine watched Alistair walk away with her father and wanted to call him back, and he must have sensed it because he turned and walked back toward her, taking her hand and leaning in to speak softly into her ear.

"I'll catch up with you later. We still have to talk. You have a lot to tell me." He let his lips brush her ear, smiled like her Alistair, then turned and joined her father, his serious expression back in place.

Katherine held fast to the fact that he had sensed her need and returned to her.

He was her Alistair still, but would he remain so when he knew Katie?